


Don't You Cry No More

by gummybearjared



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Final Goodbyes, Goodbyes, M/M, Season Finale, Tears, closing the doors to heaven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-22
Updated: 2014-03-22
Packaged: 2018-01-16 13:07:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1348570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gummybearjared/pseuds/gummybearjared
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is it. The end. Sam and Dean must close the doors to heaven... for good. But how can they say goodbye to Cas?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't You Cry No More

**Author's Note:**

> This is my FIRST EVER fic, uh oh. Please please please give me constructive criticism. I really want to get better, so anything at all will help me! 
> 
> I also apologize about the title: not exactly the most creative thing in the world.  
> Anyway, I really hope you enjoy this, I'm just going to give this a go and see where it takes me!
> 
> Jessie 
> 
> P.S: The Latin bits are basically Google translate so I probably need to be sacrificed to an Aztec God or something for that kind of blasphemy.

The walls of the old barn shuddered and groaned, flexing dangerously under the sheer pressure of the wind that boomed and shrieked around it. Lightening crashed outside and rain poured down, streaming in through cracks in the weakened ceiling.

Sam stood in the center of the barn, his hair blowing wildly around his face and his hands clutching a metal bowl alight with a writhing crimson flame. His face was screwed up desperately against the rain as he spoke an incantation, the words immediately ripped from his lips and flung away by the screaming wind.

“ _Relinque spiritus malus, qui fores portae inferni in perpetuum…_ ”

Dean watched from the side, rain pouring down his face and his eyes feral. Cas stood behind him, trench coat flapping wildly, black hair tangled and rain soaked.

This was it. This was the moment they had been waiting for. They were closing the gates of hell. And, this time, they were never opening again. No trials, no sacrifice, just a spell. True, getting hold of this particular incantation had cost them in ways they weren’t ready to even think about, but it was working. Against all odds, the spell was actually working.

Sam let go of the bowl with his left hand, and, with it, dug in his pocket for the small vial of scarlet blood they had collected just that morning from a demon about 50 miles north of the barn they now stood in.

He raised the vial and poured the blood slowly into the metal bowl. The flames leapt even higher, crackling menacingly as the wind speed picked up and an almighty crash of lightening lit up the barn for one split second.

Sam raised his voice to be heard over the howl of the wind and rain. Just one more line, just one more line...

“ _Relinque spiritus malus, QUI FORES PORTAE INFERNI IN PERPETUUM_.”

Abruptly, the flames went out and the wind vanished. Deathly silence fell over the barn. The only sound was the gentle patter of the light rain outside. Sam dropped the bowl with a loud clatter and exhaled the large breath he had been holding, chest heaving.

Dean gingerly peered out from behind the arms that had risen across his face and took a half step towards Sam.

“So... did it work?” he asked doubtfully, glancing around the barn.

“I am pleased to say that, yes, it does appear to have worked,” Cas’ rough voice answered answered, stepping forward to stand next to Dean as his piercing blue gaze examined the silver bowl and it’s spilt contents.

Dean turned to look at Cas, a sudden grin spreading across his face.

“Hell yeah! We really showed those sons-of-bitches.”

Cas looked Dean directly in the eye, allowing a small smile to tug at the corners of his lips, “Yes, Dean. We did.”

Sam came over, still breathing hard, a relieved huff of laughter escaping his lips.

“Nice one guys,” he beamed, clapping them both on the shoulders.

It was over. It was finally all over. Years and years of hunting and killing and torturing. Over. They could live however they wanted. Hell, they could be happy, even.

And yet...

“We are not quite done Sam. There is one more thing that must be taken care of,” Cas said, quietly.

Sam looked down, the smile falling off his lips. Dean swallowed hard, glancing upwards before looking directly at Cas with a quietly desperate look in his eye.

“Not yet Cas, please. It doesn't have to be today. We could wait, do this another time...” his voice trailed off.

Cas turned away, running his hand through his hair. Dean tried to ignore the way his stomach lurched at the movement.  
“No Dean. It has to be today.”

“But why?” Dean grabbed Cas’ shoulders and forced his to turn around, to look him in the eye.

The two men stood still, tension crackling in the air between them. Dean’s hands were still on Cas’ shoulders.

“You know why Dean.” Cas looked away, refusing to meet Dean’s unwavering gaze.

Dean’s body sagged and he exhaled shakily, releasing Cas’ shoulders as he stepped away. Sam looked on, a grim look on his face, not missing the way Dean’s hands had briefly clenched the trench coat close before letting go.

They all knew why. They’d sent all the demons screaming back on a one way trip on the highway to hell. Now the angels had to be sent back to heaven and the doors locked behind them. Forever.

“I’ll get the stuff from the trunk,” said Sam in a low voice, turning and leaving the barn quietly. Dean and Cas were left, refusing to look at each other. Dean knew that he should reach out and reassure the angel, try to talk to him about what they were about to do. But he couldn't. He knew without a shadow of doubt that if he said another word to Cas now, the tears would choke him. They stayed, stationary, silent, until Sam returned with his arms full.

“This spell is easier okay guys? Although I don’t exactly know how this will be for you, Cas.” Here, he shot an anxious glance at Cas.

“Don’t worry about me,” Cas said, his voice quiet and rougher than usual.

Sam shuffled his feet awkwardly.

“We’re gonna miss you so much Cas,” he said uncomfortably.

Cas stepped forward and clumsily wrapped his arms around Sam’s back. Sam stood frozen, stunned.

“This is the part where you hug back, Sam.” Cas said.

Sam laughed shakily and clapped the angel on the back. “Bye Cas.”

“Goodbye Sam.”

They pulled back. Sam smiled lopsidedly at Cas before shaking himself and returning to his heap of ingredients, his brow furrowing as he began to mix things together in a shallow metal bowl.

Cas turned to Dean and opened his mouth to say something, but Dean cut him off.

“No Cas, No goodbyes. I just can’t do it. I-“ He stopped, his breath hitching as the lump in his throat grew bigger.

“What’s the matter Dean?”Cas stepped forward in concern. Dean shook involuntarily at the closeness.

“Goddamn it Cas,” Dean said gruffly, dragging his hand across his face.

Cas reached out for Dean’s face. Dean pulled back reflexively but Cas persisted, laying his hand on Dean’s cheek. Despite himself, Dean allowed his eyes to close and he leaned into the warm, rough touch.

“Goodbye Dean.”

Cas’ hand lingered a second before he allowed it to fall away and Dean opened his eyes to see Sam staring at them. His face was a mixture of pain and bitter joy: those two dumb-asses were starting to figure it out. Too late.

He picked up the bowl and struck a match, all of them paused, watching the small flame dance for a split second before Sam dropped it in the bowl and a blindingly white flame blazed up.

“ _Angelos, et ego mitto vos averteret,_ ” Sam read.

He dropped a small sprig of purple flowers into the blaze which exploded in a burst of grey smoke.

Suddenly, Cas twisted, wrenched sideways as he doubled over, groaning in pain.

“Cas!” Dean dashed to his side and dropped down on his knees beside Cas, his hands hovering desperately above his body.

  
“Keep going,” Cas said through gritted teeth. 

Sam swallowed hard but continued to chant, his words forming a rhythm. Outside, the rain fell harder.

Cas was still moaning in pain, kneeling on the cold stone floor, small rivulets of water trickling from his hair down into his face.

Dean knelt in front of him, murmuring quietly comforting words that Sam could not hear, and did not feel the need to hear. If there was any chance that his Jerk of a brother would ever admit how he felt, it was now. Now that he was faced with the prospect of losing Cas forever.

Cas gave a large gasp as he contracted in agony, pitching forward into Dean and pushing them both against the wall. Dean allowed them to gradually slide down until they were resting against the stone, his hands cupping Cas’ face and their foreheads pressed close together. He did not know at what point that tears joined the streams of salty water running down his face.

His eyes were squeezed tight and he tried to shut his ears as well, so he would not have to hear Cas’ desperate cries of suffering and Sam’s shaken but steady chanting.

“ _Sed in hoc mundo plures Angelos neque umquam recessit caelum...”_

His eyes flew open to find Cas’ bright blue ones already staring into his own. Dean froze staggered, unable to look away, noticing every detail as if for the first time. A single raindrop clung to long, black lashes, damp with tears. Then Cas let loose the loudest groan yet, as is his very soul were being torn apart. And it was at that exact moment that Dean felt his heart break.

“Shh Cas, it’ll be okay, shh now,” Dean muttered, his thumbs shakily tracing the angels jawline and his forehead pressed desperately close to Cas.

“Dean-“

“Hey hey buddy, I got you, I got you, it’ll be okay”

It was then that Dean noticed Cas was crying too, their tears mingling on streaked, salty cheeks and Cas’ hands came up to entwine themselves in Dean’s hair.

Dean looked into Cas’ eyes at Cas stared back, hair mussed and clothes soaked. Dean was sure that he had never seen anything this beautiful in all his life.

Sam’s wild shout came out of nowhere, “This is it! One more line.”

And as Dean stared into Cas’ piercing blue eyes, he did not think twice before closing the distance between them as their lips met in a searing kiss. It was quick, desperate and needy, but it was a kiss that promised love and trust and friendship and passion. It was a kiss that said, ‘I love you’ and ‘I need you’ and it was a kiss that was bittersweet with things never to be.

“ _Aeternum caelum portas claudere_!”

A glowing white light grew from some unknown point where they slumped entwined and burned Dean’s eyelids. He recoiled, instinctively throwing one arm over his face to protect his eyes. The light grew brighter and brighter, burning on and on.

“ _Cas_ ,” Dean bellowed blindly, “ _CAS_.”

“We will see each other again, Dean,” Came a disjointed shout in that unmistakably gravelly voice, growing fainter and fainter by the second.

“ ** _CAS_** ,” Dean yelled again, his voice cracking and his eyeballs blistering. The light suddenly cut out, plunging the barn into total darkness. Dean blinked frantically, disorientated, stumbling to his feet. The darkened, grey barn slowly swam into view. The rain had stopped.

Dean took two steps forward, his wrecked vision sweeping over a wobbling Sam and the splintered remains of the roof.

“...Cas?” he whispered, his voice rough and drained.

Sam limped forwards and without hesitating, flung an arm around Dean. Just in time, for Dean’s knees gave way and he buckled.

“Okay Dean, okay...” Sam kept up a steady mumbling as they slowly made their way towards the doors and out into the open air. Dawn was breaking, and the sky was dove grey, stained with streaks of pink and yellow.

The impala was parked a short way down the road and the brothers unhurriedly limped towards it, Dean resting on Sam. Sam unlocked the car and pitched Dean into the passenger’s seat, slamming the door behind him. He then slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine, firing up the radio at the same time.

The first few bars of a song began to play and Dean dredged up a shaky, yet genuine grin.

“Yeah man. Love me a bit of Kansas.” He reached up and turned the volume up, resting his head back as Sam slowly pulled the impala out of the lay-by and down the road. A few notes of the song drifted out behind them.

_Carry on my wayward son. There’ll be peace when you are done._   
_Lay your weary head to rest. Don’t you cry no more..._


End file.
